• Gangsta's paradise
    Seznam skladeb na albu
  • Gangsta's paradise

    Get up get down

    Verse One: Malika
    Steppin up out the shadows I comes equipped to wreck
    Hold up just a sec Coolio I'm on deck (Malika)
    Yes the diction is on point
    Causin, friction when I flex up the jaw or hit the joint
    That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
    Like the body cool, keep the scrap for the naughty
    Niggie trippin why you scheme so don't step up with no bullshit
    See that there it's clip for this stickup on the hip
    Peep the correct way to get your pimp on
    Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong
    Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her
    If I'm swingin for the knockout, best believe I'm fit to drop her
    Ninety-five's on pocket, representin I keep stompin
    Throw up my fists just like this when I'm mobbin

    Verse Two: Shorty

    I killed the last, killed the ass, with my ninety-five drive
    I'm deep like d-cell with my Crimson Tide, nigga
    Like Chaka Khan, I tell you something good
    I'm Hi-C like Spike Lee with a Tale From the Hood
    You need it, I'll feed it, baby check the size
    Have you Goin Down like Mary J. Blige
    When it's popping like this, you can't be a coward
    Shorty freaks fuckin beats like Adina Howard
    My squad, is hard, with players, and hustlers
    No toleration, for fakers and busters
    Fuckin with me with all honesty
    You get bombed rap songs coming constantly
    Bumpin G-15's, Westside scene
    Killin the competition, while making a fuckin green
    So ring, around the rosie, and mosey to the Rosie
    And I want you to know G


    We bust and cuss and kick up dust
    Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
    So what's the time? It's time to get paid
    Why you bust your rhyme? Cause I got skills

    We bust and cuss and kick up dust
    Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
    So what's the time? It's time to get paid
    Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail

    Verse Three: Leek Ratt (of 40 Thevz)

    Watch me swallow this nickel and shit five pennies
    I'm the loc'est of them all though the rat is kinda skinny
    How many linny and squidgy think they can see me?
    I'm from Compton where even in the summer niggaz wear beanies
    Bustin lyrics sharper than razor blades catch it from head to toe
    if you're shocked, then amazed, when you see me at my stage show
    For my stage show beat em up
    40 Thevz gettin busy rockin coast to coast
    Dogs the most rap the hoes then rocks em up
    Givin it up for hip-hop vicitims how should I drop em and then pop em
    for poppin like to get what I got, and I ain't got a whole lot of nuthin
    cuz I been ruffin and scuffin so give it up when I'm bustin or get to duckin
    cuz I ain't given em nuthin
    Fools can't get none, so fuck em!

    Verse Four: PS

    Let me rock the motherfuckin mic
    Smoke a whole stick of dynamite, then fight all night
    I got jabs like a welterweight champion
    The pocket-pincher purse-snatcher pistol-packin
    quick to get it crackin
    Went from jackin to rappin to runnin with a pack of mad men
    Pull a trick out my sleeve like Aladdin
    Some fool tried to play me for a punk I had to have him like
    lunch or dinner, he's just a beginner
    Fuckin with a winner, number one contender top dog
    Head nigga in charge runnin with a group of hogs
    40 Thevz, MAAD Circle, Cat, and Crowbar
    Best to put your daughterWack ass rappers get tossed upTrying to come in here with that garbageMy crew see the dopest and the hardest
    So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed

    Chorus 1/2

    Verse Five: Ras Kass

    I peep game and get recognized, biting on the hard liquor
    toothpick and beedy-dyin
    Bitch you got dealt, peeled your cap the other way
    like a reversible Louis-Vitton Gucci belt
    And ain't nothin crackin
    For them niggaz steppin up with the funk I'm packin Tinactin
    Cuz I be earnin stripes in tight bunches
    All the homies carry nines I carry rhymes with sucker punches
    What? Tootsie, my knees don't bend
    Just like that actor Hoffman I be Dustin off men often
    Jay-walking over your coffin with an eleven shot loss and
    jaw wrecked that Osten won't soften you're lost and
    see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin
    Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between
    so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygeine
    Mental plus my gene equals nasty young bastard
    The raps be lung mastered takin vinyl virginity
    Coincidentally I run shit like Walter Payton
    Niggaz player hatin cause I spoke like a Dayton
    I hit the face like Ron Carter at the corner when
    C and B came strollin
    Blowin niggaz up like when Mookie's stupid ass got caught smokin
    Figure, your stigma is lack of enigma
    So bitch-ass niggaz better step, like the Delta Sigma Thetas

    Verse Six: Coolio

    We don't give a fuck, fools better duck
    39 deep in the back of Wino's truck
    Like robbin in the paint, fool think I ain't?
    Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm pullin rank
    I rev like a motor float ON like a boat to
    kick a style like Tical from here to North Dakota
    The ambassador of funk with amps in the trunk
    And when it's time to rock a mic I won't be no punk
    I bring death to the evil and power to the people
    My name ain't Steve Miller but I Fly Like an Eagle
    Don't play me for a chump, I get around like Gump
    And I, got more con in my verse than Chuck
    And you don't want no motherfuckin problems here
    Cuz I can round up a posse like Paul Revere
    Your whole crew'll get took out, turned out, shook out
    Burned up like a cookout, so fools better look out

    Verse Seven: WC

    Fresh out the penalty box
    Sportin a stockin cap, cut off dickies, and some high-top striped socks
    The freestyle finatic pyschosomatic back at it causin static
    with lyrics still as tight as a straight jacket
    The last in line but one of the first to get wit cha
    bringin more terror to MC's than a Michigan militia
    Click click boom, nigga fuck your crew
    It's the chanky hip-hopper, takin over pissin in your stage monitor
    socket you think that you can fuck with mine in your wildest dreams
    You best to wake up and apoligize
    Niggaz penetentiary yearn me cuz I, burn like Parker
    but anyway, half of y'all couldn't see me with a pair of Blu Blockers
    The lyrical night stalker stalkin at night in a pair of creased Khakis
    Chuck Taylors, my pistol grip tight
    Dub-C, that nigga from Westside MAAD Circle
    Ay man! Ay ay.
    What's up Wino?
    Uh like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up out of here
    Are we out?
    Yeah yeah fuck it
    Fuck it, MAAD Circle bitch!

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